A Light in the Darkness
by cashew
Summary: “I thought that I was helping the light; I sacrificed everything just for a chance to taken seriously…Three years have seen to it that I become nothing more than Malfoy’s whore.” A DG of a different kind.
1. Chapter One

A/N—Why oh why would I begin a new story? Perhaps I enjoy self-inflicted torture…perhaps I'm insane…or maybe I was just very bored on my second day of being snowed in at my house. Take your pick.

A Light in the Darkness

Chapter One  
Anguish

It has been three years. Three horrible years I've been stuck here between a damned metaphorical rock and a hard place. I thought that I was helping the light; I sacrificed _everything _just for a chance to taken seriously.

My whole life has been surrounded by that which I could not see because I was always so boxed in by my own family. I was never allowed to actually experience anything out of the threat of impending danger and doom. They always said that I couldn't handle myself, that I wasn't cut out to be in the war business…turns out they were right.

After a solid year of begging, promising, threatening, and anything else that I could come up with I was finally given a mission. A real assignment from Dumbledore, I was ecstatic. It wasn't even something small and insignificant as I had expected, it was an important mission that truly mattered. I felt honored that he had trusted me with it.

It was the top-secret sort of thing that I had always dreamed of; I was finally doing something to make a difference. Dumbledore didn't tell anyone about the task he set for me though, it was that secretive and very important. At first I thought his silence about it was a good thing, my family would just freak out anyway…

But two weeks into my mission Dumbledore was murdered. The greatest wizard ever was brought down, it was one of the biggest shocks of my life. But I couldn't even show my shock—where I was there were cries of celebration instead of tears of anguish. I couldn't slip up, to show my true feelings would be my death sentence. So I had to start taking care of myself, depending on no one besides me for anything.

No one besides me, Dumbledore, and one other person knew that I was on assignment. In a moment of true irony my task from Dumbledore was to spy on a dark operative. Draco Malfoy. I thought it was brilliant, I hated Malfoy and I wanted to help the light. This way I could put Malfoy in Azkaban where he belonged and finally be taken seriously…it was perfect.

When Dumbledore died, though, there was no record of what I was doing. By the time my family found out they believed my cover to be the truth. I told them it wasn't; I fell down onto my knees and begged them to believe me. They said if it were true someone on the Order would have known about it. They turned their backs on me, washed their hands of my treachery. To them, I was just another Percy. I'm sure that my mother has even shed tears for me and my blackened soul. If they had known what I risked to even see them…I risked my own life just to explain to them that I wasn't evil and they turned their backs on me without even hearing me out. And that hurt more than anything else that has taken place in the past three years.

Three years have seen to it that I have become nothing more than Malfoy's whore. It was the only way to survive, though at this point I was not completely sure if I should have wanted to survive so much. This story had no happy ending that I could foresee, no way for the misunderstandings to clear up. Malfoy owned my body now, I was his and he had marked me as such…and that disgusted every fiber of my being.

If it weren't for Draco's possessive nature I would have become a slut to be passed around from death eater to death eater. At times, I almost felt grateful to him in spite of my hate. He had saved me countless times, I didn't even know why.

He didn't like me. I could never delude myself into believing that he cared for me. He found it fitting and charming that I had come to him, offering myself to him free of charge. So he took me, and decided to keep me. I became his possession, his doll.

He found me entertaining and told me on numerous occasions that he was intrigued by my unexpected beauty. He never noticed how I recoiled from his touch and shuddered and his words of endearments. I was a fighter, and I wouldn't become seduced by the dark. Even if they had all turned their backs on me I would continue to fight, if for no one other than myself.

I indulged his fantasy of my being in love with him. I was the obedient little puppy dog that he adored. He said jump, I asked how high. He knew that I was his in every way…I knew otherwise.

Year after year I played his fool and no one came for me. No one even bothered. I suppose it is always easiest to believe the worst of people, to assume there is nothing that you can do to help them. To not even bother takes far less time than to attempt to save them.

I had long since stopped praying for help, stopped hoping for a miracle. If I ever got out it would be off my own accord, it would be better that way anyhow. I would bide my time in Malfoy's bed while I planned an escape.

He had every reason in the world to trust me…I had made sure of it. I would get out of Hell and then I would seek revenge and vengeance against those who left me here to die when I begged them for help. Three years gives a lot of time to plan out exactly what you want to do and say to those who have wronged you.

My only pleasures had been derived from planning the death of he who deserved it the most—the person who was most responsible for my misery, the one who withheld the information of my mission from the other members of the Order after the death of Dumbledore. He would be last, he would be the one I would enjoy destroying the most.

Escape was still an issue though. Malfoy Manner had become headquarters for the dark, security was unbelievable. A fly couldn't leave this place without being noticed. I had watched the security, learned various codes, and made several very important friends.

I only had to fool Malfoy for a few weeks longer before my plan would set into action. Wouldn't be too difficult on my part, a little seduction never hurt anyone.

But with a week to go before my attempted escape it all fell apart. Malfoy discovered where my loyalties had been when I came to him. He discovered that I came in attempts to take him down. And with that discovery he changed everything and my future became bleaker than ever.

* * *

A/N—Prologue more than anything. I kept it short to see what the response was, let me know if you love it, hate it, or find it merely tolerable. For the first time reviews will actually dictate the future of the story as it was an impulse thing for me. If no one wants a new chapter, there will be no new chapter. So there you go, incentive to review. 


	2. Chapter Two

A/N—This chapter goes back to the beginning of the story. Before Ginny went on her mission. I haven't decided yet, but I may just do each chapter back and forth. Make it a challenge, lol.

A Light in the Darkness

Chapter Two  
The Beginning

"Please," I begin my begging yet again. "I'm doing no one any good just sitting around here all day long!"

The most powerful wizard in the world merely stares at me with impatience. "Ginevra," he says, (full name is never a good sign to a positive answer) "You are doing plenty of good here at headquarters. Why, without you no one would ever eat and then where would all be? You keep everyone's spirits up, that's so much more important than you know."

"Don't patronize me," I snap, "I have spent every moment that I haven't been at Hogwarts inside this bloody house! I am sick of being treated like a house elf; I have more skills than cooking and being the resident clown when Fred and George are unavailable."

"I know," he says, attempting to mollify me, "you are a very talented young witch and you will get your chance to prove yourself in this war. I only ask that you remain patient until that time."

I glare and stalk out of the room, I am by no means dumb enough to promise to be patient and wait for an opportunity to fight back. I've been waiting since I was eleven years old! However, while patience has never been something I have enjoyed putting into practice, anything worthwhile is always worth waiting for.

Storming up the stairs in childish rage I pass Ron in the hallway.

"Oi Gin," he calls, "can you get dinner started sometime soon? We're all leaving tonight." The ladylike gesture of my middle finger being raised while I walk away was the only response that he receives.

* * *

I remain locked in the room that had been given to me years ago when our family first came to the Order's headquarters. Harry, Hermione, and Ron have left for undisclosed reasons that are blatantly clear to me—they went on a mission.

They were always on adventures and missions; they were always trusted to fight for the light. They were never kept in the Black's onetime home like prisoners, they were allowed to help. What is the difference between them and me? Why are they seen as responsible and trustworthy and I am seen as a silly little girl?

There was a time when they fought to allow me to go with them. Well, actually just two of them fought for my freedom, Ron felt I was better off where it was "safe". There was a time when Harry was interested in me, a time when I was so sure that he had loved me. That was over now though, we were over. I wasn't bitter…well; perhaps I was a little bit. I knew exactly why I got treated as a child; I acted as such when Harry told me that it was over. So I threw one little insignificant object at his head…not like he didn't deserve it.

I wanted action. I wanted to help. I just wanted to do…something, anything. Besides cook and clean that is. Something that mattered, something that people would respect me for. Something that Harry would finally respect me for. I have no chance of doing that locked in here. With a grim determination I climb off of the comfortable bed and make my way downstairs hoping that Dumbledore is still here. Perhaps if I explain to him how mature I am now he will finally allow me to help.

No one is in the living room, which is odd. There are always people constantly crawling all over this house, gets on my nerves a bit actually. Walking into the kitchen I find a large group of people at the table. How odd, they aren't even eating, they are…crying?

"What's going on," I voice loudly.

My mother walks up to me with tears streaming down her face, "Oh, Ginny!" She cries as she throws her arms around me and breaks off into sobs. I awkwardly place my arms around her and pat her back. I cast a questioning look toward my father as he comes and pries my mother off of me.

"Ginny," he begins carefully, but my mother's hysterical crying drowns him out.

"What is going _on_," I ask again, feeling panicky.

"It's," my mother hiccups here but continues anyway, "It's Harry!"

"What about him," I ask, but already know. Something horrible has happened, I have seen my mother like this only once before and that was when Grandma had passed on. But surely…

"He," I begin softly; "he's going to be alright, isn't he?"

I see the tears in everyone's eyes and see them averting my gaze. There is my answer. He isn't going to okay. "He's gone, isn't he?" My father gives me a weak nod in confirmation and I tear through the house back up to my room.

I hold in the tears until my door is safely shut behind me. He is dead, Harry is dead. I slide down to the floor and feel the sobs overtake me. I have been so horrible to him in the past few weeks since we broke up! And now I will never get a chance to apologize, never a chance to make things right.

I begin crying harder as I realize that I will never see him again. I will never see his green eyes light up when someone asks him to play Quidditch; I will never again get to have the feeling of his arms being wrapped around me. I will never know if he has ever loved me at all. We will never have the opportunity for reconciliation, we will never be anything because now there is just me…and I feel so empty without even the hope of him.

A gentle knock on my door interrupts my hysterical grieving. I pause in my crying and look towards the door, willing whoever is behind it to just go away, to leave me to my mourning.

The door opens without my permission and Dumbledore comes inside. The sight of evident tortured pain on his on features fills me with more sorrow.

"I realize that you're upset," he begins in a strong voice.

"How?" I croak out between tears.

He closes his eyes and sits on the bed, looking defeated. "I believe that we are both familiar with Tom."

"Voldemort," I whisper, "so he was the one who…who—"

"I believe it was through Tom, the work of one of his agents—a young Mr. Malfoy whom with you are also familiar. Voldemort has much trouble fighting Harry himself, their wands clash. He had to build up power in another, and allow that person have the element of surprise in their attack."

I tilt my head down in disbelief. Malfoy killed Harry, it doesn't even seem possible. Then again, it has yet to seem real that Harry is dead. "What about Ron and Hermione?" I whisper.

"Captured, we believe."

"Not dead?"

"No. We would know if they were dead—your mother's clock. How long they stay alive without our help, though, we do not know."

Unable to take the strength of Dumbledore's gaze on me any longer I shakily walk to the bathroom that joins my room and shut the door without a word of explanation.

Half slouched over the sink my weak arms can barely hold my body up. I lift my head up to face the mirror that rests above me. I look like shit. I look the same horrible way all people do when they cry in a hysterical manner, that red eyed, pale cheeks, quivering lip, running nose look. And I don't care.

Ever since I discovered that I had been graced with good looks I had held a great amount of pride in them and the things that they could do for me. I always thought that if I were beautiful enough Harry would love me the way that I had always loved him. So I flaunted my beauty, dangled it in front of him and waited for him to notice me the way that he noticed Cho. And one day he did. One day he looked at me as if I was the most beautiful girl in the world and he kissed me soon after…But Harry grew up. He told me when he broke up with me that beauty didn't matter to him like it did to me. He called me immature and superficial and I hated him for it, mostly because I agreed with him. He said if he were going to have a relationship during this war then it needed to have substance and the woman needed to understand things past hair charms. Someone like Hermione, he reasoned. I sneered in jealousy and called Hermione ugly. And I'll never forget his words to me after that. He said _"And that is exactly why I don't want to be with you anymore, Gin. You can't see inner beauty in anyone. Hermione is one of the best people I know, and there was a time when you would have agreed. You may be beautiful in the mirror, but you have allowed your soul to become ugly and tainted."_

Overtaken by sudden exhaustion my arms slip and I fall hardly to the cold bathroom floor. I wipe my eyes of tears as I know that if the situation were reversed Harry would be damned if he were weeping for me. I doubted he would even care, he wouldn't even notice that I was missing. After all, I'm just an immature girl with an ugly soul. He'd probably think that the entire world was better off without me.

He condemned me in his eyes and that was it. He cast me from his life without waiting for an explanation. I don't want to miss him; I don't want to cry one more tear over him. I am weak though, and my feelings betray me. He was wrong. I do care for people other than myself and things other than my looks. I cared for him. I loved him.

Finally feeling composed enough to leave the cramped bathroom I face Dumbledore yet again. He looks up at me expectantly as I walk to stand beside him.

"This is a difficult time for you," he begins, "as it is a difficult time for all of us. I have something to ask of you, though, something that can no longer be delayed. I need to you go on a mission for me."

* * *

A/N- Killing people off by the second chapter, that is a record for me. Ahem, I mean how horribly sad, let us all mourn the passing of Harry who died for the greater cause…the plot of my story.

Thank you so much to all of you that reviewed the first chapter, it was greatly appreciated and the feedback was much more than I expected. I will be hopefully updating again soon, depending on how much I feel like procrastinating on schoolwork, lol.

Oh, and so that everyone can feel interactive with the story I'll be posting a body count at the end of each chapter. Lol, you may find this to be sick, twisted, and somewhat wrong. But I tend to kill off a lot of people and this way everyone can keep up with how much causality is encountered. This was inspiration from watching Freddy vs. Jason where I counted 18 deaths, I found this to be a commendable figure and decided to see what I could do, lol.

Body count: 1


	3. Chapter Three

A/N- Sorry that it's been a while for this chapter to come out. But this is **IMPORTANT** the chapters are going to go back and forth between time periods. This chapter is directly after the first chapter, where Ginny has been undercover for three years and Draco found her out. Then the next chapter will be like the second chapter where Ginny's mission was just beginning. It will go like this for the rest of the story. Hope that makes sense. Lol, this is going to be a real challenge to try and make this work. But I do so love a challenge.

Chapter Three

"You almost had me, Ginny. Three years and you screwed up once."

I flinch at his words and superior expression. His anger and betrayal have turned into a smug sort of power. He has caught me and he is now biding his time until he figures out what to do. How to punish me in a way that will last for what he hopes will be the rest of my life.

And the funny thing is that I don't even really care. A part of me has been expecting him to catch me, waiting for it even. He knows now, he knows that I am on a mission, and that I have never cared for him. His cool attitude about the situation unnerves me because I know that eventually all his hot anger is going to boil over and explode on me.

I have been sitting in a chair as he stalks around me, surveying his prey. He stops and leans down so his lips are close to my ear, "Say something, darling. You've been quite the actress for years it seems, why don't you take the stage now?"

I turn my eyes away from his accusatory stare, "I have nothing to say. And please refrain from calling me 'darling'."

He smiles coldly, "You're mine, I will call you what I please. Get up."

With nothing left to fight for I snap my head toward him, "I don't succumb to your orders anymore."

He places a tight grip on my upper arm and yanks me harshly out of the chair. "You will bend to my will or I will break you to it. Do not dare to defy me again, Ginevra, or you will rue the day you set foot here." The corners of my mouth turn up in irony, I already do rue that day.

With a look of repulsion he carelessly tosses me to the floor as if I am some sort of rag doll. I feel the harsh stone tear my skin but do not make a sound. Bleeding is the only way for me to be sure I am still even alive anymore.

It's hopeless. Any chance of escape flew when Malfoy bore down on me like the wrath of God. The worst part is that I don't even know my mistake. He knows, but I have no clue as to how he found out. I can't very well ask either…So I have to wonder. Not like I have anything else to do anyway.

I'm a realist, I know when I am beat. And right now, I'm beat. He has me, I can admit that. The role that I've told myself that I'm pretending to be—his slave, his whore—I now am. I will be alive only to do his biding…assuming that he keeps me alive at all that is. Life is a lonely existence.

Feeling worse than I have in years I drag myself to the large bed and throw the covers around me. I feel tears stinging my eyes but refuse to allow them to fall. I won't cry. I will accept the situation because there is no other choice. If it takes me three more years, I will get another chance. He will slip up, learn to trust me again…I will wait until then. I will wait because I have to. I will wait because I have no other choice. I will wait because I have nothing else to do.

* * *

I feel something sharp poking my shoulder blade. I wince as I wake and open an eye to see Malfoy hovering over me, looking no less forgiving than he had before.

"Get up," he states harshly.

I bite my lower lip and immediately follow his request. Back to complacency and following orders. I feel the tears longing to return, I despise the person that I have become. I am not even pretending anymore…This is me, this pathetic, following creature. I'm not even an individual, not special in any way…just another lost cause.

He sits in the chair that I had occupied earlier looking grim, but pleased with himself all the same. "I've decided on your punishment."

I straighten up and wipe all expression off of my face. I can take whatever he has to dish out. "How wonderful for you," I sneer.

"You're going to marry me."

As prepared as I was for any punishment…I wasn't prepared for that one. "Pardon," I say hoarsely. "I must have heard you wrong."

He smirks, "You did not hear me wrong. You are going to marry me because that is the only way to make you suffer over and over again. You will be mine forever in the eyes of God and man."

He's finally snapped and gone completely mad, I decided. "Why on earth would you want to marry me?"

He looks downright pleased with himself. "I really don't care for marriage. I find it be ceremonious and dull. But I need to establish a legitimate heir to carry on the family legacy and it would be nice for future business reasons to be a family man. It doesn't make the slightest bit of difference to me who my wife is, so long as she is beautiful, pureblood, and can conduct herself in public."

"I'll ask again, why me?"

He sighs impatiently and repeats himself with obvious annoyance, "You are pureblood, beautiful, and can conduct yourself in public. Furthermore, you don't want to marry me. Spending the rest of your life with me would be a fate worse than death in your eyes. I warned you long ago not to cross me, Ginevra."

I can't breath, I feel suddenly trapped. "You would be miserable married to me as well!"

He nearly smiles at this, "I won't be miserable because you will not exist to me beyond the limitations of my bed. You will bare my name as well as my heir, which will be the only difference from what you are to me now. You will not be in my way, you will not bother me. I, however, will be all you have. As your lawful husband I have the power and authority to command you as I please. You will do as I say, see only who I permit you to see, leave only when you are leaving with me."

My head pounding I feel bitter and cynical. "That's my life now."

He shrugs, "Well I'll see what I can do to make it more confined for you."

Marriage in our world is everything, it is forever. I will be with him for all of time, no opportunity for escape. No one will allow me to leave him, no matter what plan of escape I have worked out it won't matter…I am completely and utterly boxed in. "Don't do this," I whisper, "you don't want this."

He smiles and I see my defeat in his eyes. "I beg to differ, I do want this. I have a house in the country with no civilization for as far as the eye can see, I think I'll leave you there."

Leave me in the country. I can see my bleak and horrible future, Malfoy brats clinging to me, controlling me. Freedom will no longer even enter my mind; it will become useless to even think of. And suddenly, my fighting spirit seems broken. All these years I've lived with this hope always present within me, this feeling that no matter how bad things got, no matter what happened, one day I would be away from everything that was hurting me. I've lived my life with the belief that I can sustain anything because nothing bad can last forever. But marriage is lawful. Marriage between a witch and a wizard is magically binding. There are spells that a husband may place on a wife to physically bind her to him. To make sure that she is literally trapped. The spells are not often put into use, as they are outdated even for the wizarding world—but they are there. And I have no doubt that Malfoy will use them. And that can only mean that this is forever. And I am not sure if I can sustain it, because I see no out. I see no moment in the future where I shall be happy. I see no reason why I should fight when there is nothing to fight for, no light at the end of the tunnel, only lingering darkness.

* * *

Our marriage took place the very same day that I was informed of it. Informed, not asked. Told that I was getting married, I had no choice in it. I was numb throughout the entire service, dying to scream, dying to run, unable to do either

I wore black as I found it to be fitting—black to my own wedding…how humorous, in a dry sort of manner. I don't even know what he wore; I couldn't even bring myself to look at him.

The traditional ceremony was done. Voldemort came. There's the kiss of death to any marriage if I ever saw one, the Dark Lord attending the ceremony. I heard the closing words and felt Draco's hand on the small of my back, forcing me to him. He sealed my fate with a harsh, punishing kiss on the mouth. He bit the corner of my bottom lip, causing it to bleed. Blood trickled down my chin; he wiped it off with his thumb.

We took a portkey to his house where he intended to imprison me; and standing here now I feel death looming over me already.

His house is beautiful, in a cold sort of way. The kind of beauty that can be appreciated by those who only feel happy when it rains. Darkness and despair pouring from the sky is a fitting description of my new residence.

The entire inside of the mansion screams out wealth. Decorating obviously has no limitations on money for the Malfoys…Not that this necessarily shocks me. Not a lot of things have limitations on money for them, which shows what kind of people they are. Material possessions rank in importance above all other things.

My mother always used to tell me that anyone being loved can never be truly poor. Looking around my dreamlike expensive surroundings I realize that I'm poorer than anyone alive.

* * *

A/N- Sorry about the updating delay, I got really busy and lazy for a few weeks…which is a horrid combination. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, as my way of showing thanks to all of you everyone survived this chapter, lol.

Body count: still 1


End file.
